Mission Report
by Sterenyk Strey
Summary: Ronon 'elaborates' on the events surrounding the rescue of John Sheppard after a mission gone south. Shep whump/Ronon angst. Just a bit of fun delving into Ronon's mind, whereby 800 words for a mission report is most likely 790 words too long... :P


**MISSION REPORT**

"Uh, testing, testing…

Specialist Ronon Dex here. Reporting on the mission to GY4-772, the 'Screwed-Up Bastards Who Didn't See a Good Deal When It Jumped Up To Bite 'Em On The Ass' planet.

This is how I found Sheppard. He was just kind of laying there half buried in the sand, arms splayed, tied to stakes. He was still. Pale. He looked bad. Tide was coming in. Seawater must've washed over his face a few times. That was a good thing, even though he was spluttering, as I might never have seen him. The seawater had washed him clean. Sand was dirty brown, like mud. It was all screwed up, like it wasn't really happening. Not to him, not to me. Not to any of us. Sheppard offered them the usual. They grew pissed. Don't remember why. Not important. Had to get him out. Tide was coming in. I said that, right?

Uh…

I don't get why I have to file this report. Told you, Woolsey. Found Sheppard. Got him out. He's alive. Should be enough for now, but it's not.

Beckett better fix him.

You still there? Crap…

Testing… One, two , three…

Still there. Think he called it 'spread-eagled' once, the way he was laying there, after some movie maybe, but he never explained the origin. Not then, not since. Asked. He told me to go… 'googull' it. Whatever that means. His eyes were, like, wide. Empty. Kind of unseeing. Sheppard looked dead. It was wrong. It wasn't like Sheppard. Doing nothing, saying nothing. It pissed me off. He's always the one calling the shots.

Sheppard never waits to be rescued, unless he's seriously screwed. Didn't see the broken legs buried in the sand. Didn't know he had a broken back either, even after I hauled his ass out. Sheppard is always awkward. Like a - colt. Yep, seen some Westerns. McKay mumbled something about Bambi, but I haven't seen the movie. Some kind of mercenary played by Sly Stallone. A bit like me. So Zelenka said. He started snickering. That Zelenka dude better not push me too far. Movie sounds good. I'll wait until Sheppard is out of the infirmary. Crutches, wheelchair, anything.

I'm still pissed that Sheppard might not walk again. And that it might be my fault for moving him. But the water was reaching his ears, and he was spluttering. Sheppard would have drowned.

Took me a moment to snap to. We're lucky we found him. You want details? I'll give you details. Beckett wants to know what I did to move him, so here it is. Best I can remember.

Stuck my left arm in the sand around Sheppard's waist, and dug around to the small of his back, then yanked. Decided that was a safe enough spot to hoist him up by, given his other injuries, which were no big deal. Superficial stuff. The injuries I could see, that is. It was tough pulling him out of the sand. The sand fought back. Did some more digging. So did Teyla and McKay.

Not my best plan. His back was a mess. My fingers came away bloody. Thought they'd shot him, but that wasn't it. Didn't wanna think about what they'd done to him. They kept him separate from us, but I knew the sound of leather on flesh. Some sounds never leave you, like the whine of a Wraith dart, or the sound of breaking glass when a window falls in…

Scooped… ah, crap… Scooped my right arm under his neck and across his shoulders. Ignored the whining. From him and the darts. Told him I'd stun him if he didn't quit the whining. That's when Sheppard laughed. He shouldn't have, the idiot, as it made him cough, and - well, it made him cough. Hoisted Sheppard up, and slung him over my shoulder. You better be happy with all this detail, because I'm fishing here.

Ran for the gate, holding Sheppard, taking point. McKay dialed. Teyla watched our six. Got home. Handed Sheppard over. Took a shower, ate, visited Sheppard in the infirmary. I still wanna know what spread-eagling is. Sheppard said he wasn't literally spread-eagled, else he'd be dead by now, but still, maybe I could use this technique on the Wraith some day. Sheppard mumbled stuff on the way, like I shoulda left him behind and got the rest of the team to safety. Crap like that. Like I'd change his own rules on him. Next time I'll stun the bastard to shut him up. That never gets old.

Beckett had better fix Sheppard. He says he can wriggle his toes now. That's a good thing. He's back to grinning like an idiot. He doesn't blame me. I know it.

I moved him. There was no other way. No regrets. Like I said, he'd have drowned.

Hope this report helps.

Uh…

Dex out."

oooOOOooo


End file.
